Pandora's
by Autumn Alchemist
Summary: Nick winds up at a club and meets the perfect girl. The problem? He doesn't know anything about her and enlists Greg's help to find her. Some Nick/OC, will be slash - the love. Soon, I hope. Brief mentions of other pairings. In Progress. Chapter 9 is up!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I know they have places like this where I live, so I'd assume that Vegas has something similar. Please review. Spoilers through season three. Takes place when Greg is still a lab rat...

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, Nick, Warrick or Greg (real bummer on that last one). If I did, I'd be getting paid for this stuff. :)

**Chapter One**

He knew he shouldn't be doing this. He wasn't some sad soul who needed to drown out his pain at the bottom of a bottle, but he figured this case was an exception. He was tired of the long nights and the horror he saw everyday. Today had been the worst. _Always is with kids, _thought Nick.

He eyed the bar suspiciously. It didn't have a very grand entrance, to say the least. A fairly small neon light above a set of stairs flashed the word "Pandora's." Three flashes, then the little lights around the sign moved clockwise. Greg had told him about this place, how it's open from 4 a.m. to 10 a.m. for people who worked nights. Nick was pretty sure that it wasn't legal, but Greg had assured him that it only required special licenses to do so. After all this _was_ Vegas.

Nick's eyes flickered between the sign and the stairs. _Might as well, _Nick thought. _Maybe I'll meet someone who will understand my hours._ With a lot of courage, and a deep breath, Nick approached the entrance.

"I'll need to see your ID," came a gruff voice. Nick nearly jumped out of his skin and turned to face a _very_ intimidating bouncer. After a moment of composing himself, he reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He flicked it open to his driver's license.

The bouncer leaned in and Nick could smell his musky cologne. The bouncer only cocked an eyebrow and held out his hand. "Cover charge, cough it up," came the voice again. Nick was confused. "Five bucks cover, no exceptions." Nick sighed and handed him a five. The bouncer waved his hand for him to go in.

Nick walked down the narrow staircase, and through the narrow hallway, black lights lighting his way. When he reached his assumed destination, Nick stopped short.

It was dark inside, green lasers flew all about the room; a smoky haze lit a fairly good sized dance floor. There was no sitting room at the bar; only a few benches lined that dark corner. Nick could barely distinguish a couple of figures making out in the corner. Beyond that was a raised area. Nick imagined that live bands could play there.

The music was so loud, he could feel his insides bumping to the beat. As he looked beyond the dance floor, he discovered several tables, seating, and to his surprise, a second bar. Nick saw a couple of doorways leading in different directions; one on the right side of the bar, led to…well, more dark as far as Nick could see. And as he looked to the other one he could see it open as someone made their way in. _Smoking section,_ he thought.

He made his way through the crowd and began to notice a few strange things. Everyone was dressed in all black, or bright neon colors, almost everyone was pierced, and he was sure that he could feel eyes from all over the room on him. Some people looked like vampires, some members looked like Russian mafia, and he was pretty sure he saw a couple of girls who weren't exactly 'all woman.' A lot of people were holding glow sticks, and he was positive his jeans and red t-shirt made him stand out.

Nick sped up his pace and finally, after what seemed like hours, slumped into a bar stool. _Of course, _he thought. _After all it was Greg who referred me here._

"You must be new," a pleasantly smooth voice cut in. Nick looked up to see a pale face smiling down at him with soft blue eyes.

"I'm Nick Stokes."

"Name's Alyssa. What can I get you?" Nick looked her over. Black undershirt of some kind with a lacy…thing over it. Nick admitted to himself that she was pretty, and then reminded himself that if he didn't look up soon, he would be caught.

"Beer?"

"We have beer. What kind of beer?" she asked with a smile.

"Samuel Adams? Guinness? Something thicker."

"Sure thing, sweetie." She disappeared for a few moments, and came back with a glass of cold refreshing forget-my-life. Nick smiled.

"What are you doing here?"

"I work nights, and I needed to wind down. My friend told me about this place, but I don't think it's really the right place for me."

"Don't let it get you down. You shouldn't have come on a Tuesday morning. It's Freaks night-morning." Nick smiled.

"Freaks?"

"People who don't wanna be judged based on looks just because they're pierced or happen to wear a lot of black." Nick smiled again. She couldn't be older than 23. "Like Goth, but better in bed."

"So what mornings should I come?"

"Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Thursday is college ni-morning, 18 and up, no alcohol served. Wednesday is live music. We let local bands to play. They get their sound out, get fans, and of course we pay them." She paused. "Sometimes." Nick let a chuckle loose, and sipped his beer.

"What about Saturday and Sunday?" he asked.

"We don't want to give party goers an excuse to keep partying. Weeknights only." Nick smiled at the thought. "Should I start you a tab for you, honey?"

"No," Nick said. "Just name your price. I think I'm gonna head out after this."

"Five bucks." Nick smiled, and pulled out his wallet. "Don't be discouraged." Nick laid out a five and two ones. She rang up the register.

"Why not? Because I've made a friend?" He let one of his trademark Texas grins break through. She smiled back.

"You could if you tried. These people don't judge." A group of three approached the bar. "Duty calls." She walked to the group of girls. Nick gulped his drink and turned to face the dance floor. A guy with green hair doing the robot, a small group of girls swaying mostly with the beat… No one who really caught his interest.

He faced the bar, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted _her._ She was tall, taller than Nick would normally go for. Her legs seemed to go on forever before they disappeared underneath a skirt that left nothing of her behind to the imagination. She wasn't bearing any cleavage, but a silky smooth black top with bunches in front made for small breasts, at least as far as his imagination would let him go.

Her shirt hugged her waist, and with that skirt on her hips-

Nick knew he was staring, but he couldn't help himself. What really caught him about her were her eyes. Intense, focused, dark and mysterious. She swayed her way over to the bar and slid into the barstool on the end.

Nick waved Alyssa over. "I'd like to buy her a drink." He motioned over at the girl who was absentmindedly playing with her cell phone.

"I'll ask what she wants," Alyssa replied. She walked to the end of the bar, and Nick's eyes were on her fingers. Long, slender, piano-playing fingers. He began to imagine what those fingers would feel like in his hand, down his chest, everywhere.

"She usually takes a whiskey sour." Nick jumped at the voice and faced Alyssa. "But she said she's done drinking for today." Nick looked disappointed and slumped his shoulders.

"Damn," he muttered. He looked over at her again and sighed.

"She also doesn't talk." Nick frowned and turned back toward Alyssa.

"Of course not. She's perfect." Alyssa handed him a small notebook and a pen. Nick looked at her curiously. Alyssa gave him a nudge.

"If she's so perfect, why don't you go talk to her? At least leave her your number if she's completely uninterested." Nick shook his head again.

"She can hear you, she just doesn't speak. Hey, if you don't hit it off with her, you never have to see her again. And if you do, well, then you do." Alyssa smiled. "Use that southern charm of yours and go win her over."

Nick made his way to the end of the bar and sat beside her. She raised her eyebrows and looked him up and down. "I'm Nick." He offered his hand, and she took it. Her skin was so smooth and her fingernails were clean and trimmed, but not painted. She shook it with all of the grace in the world.

"So…Come here often?" She raised an eyebrow and stared at him. Nick laughed aloud. "Yeah, okay, I guess that was pretty bad. I haven't had a lot of practice at this sort of thing." She picked up the pen and put it to the paper.

'_No?' _she wrote. Nick smiled again.

"No," he repeated aloud. She smiled. An honest smile. "What's your name?" She shook her head. "What? You're not gonna tell me? Why not?"

'_I'm a secretive kind of person.'_

Nick sighed. "I suppose there is lots of crime in Vegas. Nah, I don't blame you for not telling me your name. Especially when I used a line as stupid as 'come here often'." A grin broke out onto her face. _She even has perfect teeth, _thought Nick. He smiled his own smile. Something caught her attention and she pulled out her phone and flipped it open.

She sighed and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

'_My ride is here. It was nice talking to you'_

Nick looked and sighed too. "Alright," he said. She smiled and stood. Nick shook his head sadly. "Will I ever see you again?" She offered a shrug, and before he knew what hit him, she was gone.

Nick pulled out his keys and ran to the parking lot after her. No such luck. Nick climbed into his truck and drove home, completely forgetting why he had gone in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Nick walked into the lab feeling better than he had in months. He headed for the break room where, after stashing a half-ass lunch, he began opening cupboards at random.

"Little Brat," he muttered.

"Who's a little brat?" came a voice. Nick bumped his head on a cupboard and closed it.

Nick turned around to see a very amused Catherine with her arms folded across her chest. "Greg is. For hiding his coffee again."

"What do you mean again? That kid always hides his coffee."

Warrick and Sara walked in. "What's the grin for?" asked Catherine.

Nick cleared his throat. "What grin?"

"Oh man! You got laid? Again?" cried Warrick. "You need to stop picking up women before there won't be any for the rest of us!" Sara and Catherine laughed.

"He's not irresistible," answered Sara.

"Well, if anyone's gonna resist me, it would be you. You've got your eye on Grissom after all." Sara blushed and everyone in the room laughed. Greg wandered in and smiled.

"What's so funny?"

"Just that Nick is apparently irresistible," answered Sara. "But I disagree."

"Because you've got it for Grissom," countered Warrick. Another chorus of laughter erupted.

Greg's eyebrows raised. "So all those years of flirting-"

"Straight down the drain," finished Warrick. "Not like it isn't obvious or anything."

"So why is Nick irresistible again? I bet that I could resist doing his samples until _just _before shift ends," dared Greg.

"He got laid."

"I didn't say that," interjected Nick.

Grissom walked in, and the light-heartedness evaporated. "Nick, you and Warrick take the robbery. Jewelry store." He thrust the slip toward Warrick. "Catherine, Sara, you guys are with me. DB down at the Monaco." Grissom waved hands for everyone to get to work, and reluctantly, everyone got to work.

Nick climbed into his Tahoe and started it. He waited for Warrick to buckle up, and backed out.

"You're going to tell me," said Warrick. "So you might as well just do it now, opposed to trying to talk through the crime scene."

"So I went to this place, right? It's for the nightshift. And there were all these freaks there! It was weird."

"Freaks?"

"Yeah, the kind of place that Greg would be at. I mean, people in long trench coats, all black, people were wearing sun glasses inside. And the music was loud and horrible." Warrick raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah, that does sound like Sanders."

"Anyway, amidst all this chaos there was this-this…" Nick thought hard for a moment. "She was perfect, 'Rick. A little tall, slender, her legs were amazing. They just went on for days, man, she was perfect." Warrick laughed. "Her eyes though, they were so intense, man. Big brown pools of chocolate…"

"What's her name, Nick?" Nick sighed.

"I didn't get it. See, she doesn't talk."

"So you failed?"

"No, man, that's just it! She's mute, doesn't talk at all. She would write her responses for me. I even kept the paper. I'll show you when we get back to the lab. She wouldn't write her name for me, so I never got it. And when I asked her if I'd see her again, she just shrugged. But man, she was Fine." Warrick laughed again.

"Where did you meet this girl?"

"Some place called Pandora's." Warrick thought for a moment.

"Never heard of it."

Nick slowed and put his car in park. "Greg told me about it. Anyway, we start at the front and work our way back."

"Always," came the quiet reply.

They abandoned the Tahoe as Brass approached them.

"Two masked men, two black handguns," said Brass. "That's all I've got. Lucky for us, they have a big brother system." He smiled.

"Good. Maybe we can get height and the types of guns they used," added Warrick. Nick smiled and headed toward the front.

A broken glass door at the front. Nick turned to Brass. "What else?"

"Said they kicked in the door movie style, broke two glass cases with the butt of their guns and took everything out of them."

"They didn't take money?" inquired Nick.

"No, just jewelry."

_Well, that's a little odd,_ thought Nick. For conformation, he looked at Warrick who only nodded. Nick knelt at the glass door and Warrick headed over to the glass cases. "We're gonna need a list of every piece that was taken."

"Yeah," added Brass. "I got the owner making a list."

"Any chance this is insurance fraud?" piped up Nick.

"I don't think so. Guy seemed genuinely shook up over it."

"I got some sort of fabric or something," called Warrick.

"I'll take that and raise you a potential foot print," returned Nick.

"Blood!"

"BULLET!"

"Alright, you're even," stated Brass. "This isn't a competition."

"Aw, come on now, Brass. A little competition can be great motivation."

"I'm thinking fraud," muttered Nick.

"Professionals, lookin' for something specific."

"Yeah, how much?"

"Forty bucks."

"You're on," added Nick.

_Idiot,_ thought Nick. _What kind of professional leaves blood behind?_ Nick shook his head and gathered glass from the door, piece by piece. He'd be damned if he wasn't going to get this shoe print. Once he decided he'd done enough photographing, potential printing, collecting and swabbing, he stood up. Nick looked around and saw no one else, so he walked back outside with his evidence.

Warrick walked over with a small box. "Got the video tapes from tonight, three different cameras."

"Good. We'll get those to Archie. See if maybe we can get something."

"He said they don't pick up sound, so…" Nick nodded in understanding and loaded up his Tahoe. "Back to the lab, then?" Nick grunted in approval and climbed in.

"So tell me more, about this girl."

Nick's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Her hair was dark, and it was in front of her face. She was small, and kinda tall for a girl. Very slender."

"She could be a model," chimed in Warrick. "I mean, could be why she didn't want you to know her name."

Nick pondered this for a moment. "Yeah… a model…I mean, she was very pretty. Way prettier than Kristi ever was."

"Whoa, man! I saw Kristi once and she was a bombshell!" Nick nodded thoughtfully.

"A model. She did say her ride was there… Whatever that meant. I followed her to the parking lot, but by the time I got there, she was gone, man."

When they arrived back at the lab, Nick dropped his evidence off in the appropriate places and headed to one of the layout rooms. Piece by piece, and girl forgotten, he began trying to put the pieces together. A couple hours later, a knock came at the door. Nick looked up to find Warrick leaning against the doorframe.

"You look like you could use a break."

"Man, there are so many pieces that I keep seein' the same pieces!"

"Let's take a break. Heard Sanders made coffee not too long ago." Nick grinned.

"Say no more," added Nick as he headed for the break room. He pulled out his half-assed lunch, and poured himself some fresh coffee. He sat beside Sara.

Greg and Warrick walked in almost at the same time and they both headed for coffee. "Shouldn't you be running our samples?" teased Warrick.

"I'll have you know, Grissom dumped tons of samples on me and said they were priority. Those are currently running, and I'll start yours when I finish. And you shouldn't be drinking my coffee." Greg poured himself a mug and leaned against the counter.

Warrick smiled playfully. "Sorry, it's just that Nick keeps talking my ear off about some girl that he met. Said she's perfect."

"Yeah? What's her name?" asked Greg. Nick suddenly felt frustrated.

"I don't know," he admitted. Greg raised an eyebrow. "She was gorgeous. Look, I went to that place yesterday-the one you told me about-"

"Pandora's?" asked Greg. "On a Tuesday?" Nick nodded. "Hah, that's sin's night." Nick frowned.

"There were some really weird people there, but, anyway, there was this girl… She was really beautiful. She had long legs, black boots, black shirt, black miniskirt, tight a-"

"Spare me the details," pleaded Sara. Nick nodded thoughtfully.

"Really tall, pretty thin, actually."

"I might know her," added Greg. "Anything else?"

"She's mute." Sara and Greg both raised their eyebrows. "So she wrote to me." He pulled out the paper and unfolded it for them to look at. "Warrick thinks she might be a model."

Sara looked at Greg and appeared thoughtful for a moment.

"Yeah, I'd know this handwriting anywhere." Nick's eyes sparkled with hope.

"What's her name?" begged Nick. "Please, G, I gotta know." Greg shook his head and laughed a little.

"I don't actually know her name. I don't know anything about her." Nick looked desperate at this point. "But I'll tell you that she goes there a lot." Nick grinned.

"Well, I'm going back tonight." The rest of the group laughed at him.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Rights of characters and show and stuff all to... whoever they belong to. I only own the plot.

**Chapter Three**

By the time Nick had pieced together the rest of the door and taken a partial shoe print, he was exhausted, and only 25 minutes away from ending shift. He glanced at the clock for the third time this hour and shook his head.

He was about to run the shoe print when his pager beeped. He looked down, smiled a little, and rushed to Trace. "What have you got for me, Hodges?"

"It wouldn't be very kind of me to divulge this sort of privileged information without your partner here, now would it?"

Nick groaned, and called Warrick. "Hey man, Hodges has our trace."

"I know, I'm on my way, buddy." Nick hung up. No use in wasting minutes on waiting a couple of minutes.

Warrick strode in a full two minutes later. "Hodges, tell me something good."

"Alright," he said. "But I'd like you to know that I finished way in advance of Sanders. All he has to do is run DNA, but I have to do research, which takes an irreplaceable amount of time away from me."

"Hodges," warned Nick, "Get on with it already."

"Alright. Your mystery fabric is from a glove. A man's glove, with finger holes."

"Like the kind from a golf course?" inquired Warrick.

"No, more like the kind you use to move a wheel chair. And judging from the piece, I would say it's from just underneath the pinky finger, on the palm. I can't tell you what size though."

"Wait a minute," Nick said. "Are you telling me that one of the guys who robbed the jewelry store was in a _wheelchair?_"

"Well, he could just own a pair of those kinds of gloves," added Warrick. "Did you check for epithelial contributions on the inside?"

"I did, that's how I know they're wheelchair gloves. See, there's a soft, flexible material, like spandex, on the inside that wraps tightly around your fingers, and then the outside is sewn with leather, or imitation leather, and it gives you grip, to wheel around in."

"Could be how our killer cut himself," said Warrick.

"Yeah, but how come there were no prints at the scene then?"

"I don't know," interjected Hodges. "But the answer isn't going to be found in my lab."

Nick reluctantly retreated from devil's territory. "Has Greg run our DNA yet?"

"I don't know, but I went over those tapes with Archie, and I can definitely say neither of our attackers were in wheelchairs, nor had any reason to be. They both walked normally and they smashed jewelry cases with the butt of their guns. Not exactly wheelchair-worthy." Nick nodded thoughtfully and pressed the doors open to the DNA lab.

"Greggo, pal, my man," bribed Nick.

Greg looked up. "Sorry Nick. Grissom dumped a ton of semen samples and condoms on me. Lots of swabbed beer bottles, lots of condoms. I guess it was some sex party." Nick felt like pulling out his hair. "I'm already going to be doing overtime tonight as it is."

"It's all right," answered Warrick. "We know one of our attackers was about 6'1", and the other one was about 5'10". Archie calculated it from the video based on the height of the counters."

"Right, and we still got that bullet with Bobby."

"Yeah, I checked with him, and he's working on it."

"So what you're sayin' is we got nothing more to do tonight?" clarified Nick. Warrick nodded and they both sulked to the locker room."

When he pulled into the parking lot of Pandora's, it was packed. Nick felt a wave of toe-curling nausea hit him at the thought of seeing her again. It took almost all of his strength to calmly get out of his car and head for the door. There was a line this time and when he reached the bouncer he demanded ten dollars instead of five.

Thoroughly annoyed, Nick took out his wallet, showed him ID, and paid the guy. The dance floor was packed, people lined both bars, and there were so many people on the benches that some were sitting in other's laps. He gave the room a cursory glance and forced his way to the first bar.

The room was dimly lit, but there were no lasers nor black lights nor people dressed in trench coats. When he got to the bar he looked around the room again, but he couldn't spot her. _Too many damn people,_ he thought.

He finally caught the bartender's attention and he ordered a whiskey sour. When it was finally brought to him, at least five minutes later, he thanked her and downed it.

A round of applause began and he looked up to see some guys heading out on the stage. He smiled. _Live music is Wednesday,_ he remembered. _Wonder if Alyssa's working. Probably to busy to talk to me anyway._

"Hi, thank you for coming," said one guy into the speakers, "We are Slayed Scissors." And after a few practice notes, the music started again. _So stupid,_ thought Nick. _Slayed isn't even a word. And who wants to slay scissors anyway? Scissors tend to be the real slayers here._

The sound quality was terrible, and the music itself was worse than that. The background noise almost drowned out the music, people hollering and such. Nick shook his head and began his quest for _the girl._ He was definitely going to find out her name tonight. He waded through the crowd and out onto a small balcony. Finding that it was indeed outdoor smoking, he was about to turn around when he saw a familiar figure.

He walked over and tapped her on the shoulder. She wheeled around and grabbed his wrist.

"Whoa, whoa! Sara, it's just me. You know, Nick?"

Sara smiled and gave him a hug. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Looking for my mystery woman." He smiled. "Didn't know you smoked, Sara."

"I don't. But _some_one insisted that we take a cigarette break."

"Sara, don't be an ass," came a familiar voice. Nick looked to her side and saw none other than the one- and-only Greg Sanders with a lit cigarette in his hand.

"So what, are you guys," Nick left off.

"No, no, no," came the quick reply from Sara. "We're collectively moping." Nick laughed a little.

"So what, you're moping about Grissom and Greg's moping about you?" Greg burst into laughter and Sara gave him a nasty glare. "So you are moping about Grissom?" This only encouraged Greg's rampant laughter and Sara's eyes morphed turned into daggers.

"Well, Greg, why don't you tell him who you're moping about?" Greg frowned.

"Nick does _not_ want to hear my problems."

"I disagree, Greggo." Nick tried to sound sympathetic. "Tell me what's going on, maybe I can help." This time, Sara burst into laughter and Greg took another drag from his cigarette.

"All right," he answered. "I've had a few too many anyway." He took a deep breath and studied Nick. "Only if the both of you promise to have another cigarette with me."

"I never took you for a chain smoker, G."

"Only when I'm nervous," he replied shakily. He took another long, slow drag. "There's this guy, and I'm partially in love with him." Sara burst into laughter again.

Nick stuttered a bit and looked at his eyes. Flashing one of his best grins, he cheekily added, "Still think you can help?" Nick swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Uh-umm… huh…umm…" Greg joined Sara in the raucous laughter. _Obviously they've had a lot to drink._

"Didn't think so," came the quiet reply.

"You're gay?" Nick blurted it before he even noticed his mouth had moved.

"Yeah," answered Greg.

"So all that flirting with Sara wouldn't have paid off anyway?" Sara laughed all over again.

"Nick, seriously?" she asked. "He flirts with everyone, he changes his hair ever other month, it seems, and he dances around the lab." Nick nodded vaguely in understanding, and Greg put out his cigarette.

"Do you flirt with me?"

Greg cleared his throat and Sara laughed all over again. "This is priceless," she stuttered between fits of laughter.

"Yes," Greg said slowly. "But I flirt with everyone. Please don't let it change your opinion of me, Nick."

"Why would it? I mean, you still work hard, everyone knows that." Greg smiled a little. "Next time I need help figuring out a date, I'll just ask you." Sara giggled and Greg let another grin break through.

"So why is Sara here again?" he tried to clarify.

"Collective moping," they said together.

"So Sara's pining over Grissom and you're pining over…"

Greg cleared his throat. "He's one of my friends, but he doesn't work at the lab."

Nick nodded in acknowledgement and turned to go back inside. "You promised you'd stay for another cigarette."

Nick sighed. "I know, G, but I gotta find this girl. I'll sit through another one before I take off." Greg looked doubtful and Sara raised an eyebrow.

"I promise," he added. They smiled and Greg waved for him to go inside.

Nick did, and he surveyed the room, pushing and shoving his way in and out through the crowd, having no such luck. He went back to the bar and ordered a water. Two-fifty.

His thoughts shifted from the untraceable girl to Greg and Sara's predicament. He didn't want to end up in love with someone he could never have. That sounded like a terrible option. He was sure whoever Greg was in love with went for women, and Grissom-well, it's Grissom. Nick seriously doubted the man understood anything besides crime scenes and insects.

He was about to head out when he remembered that he owed Greg ten minutes of his time. He found him easily with the weird Mohawk thing he had going, and he was dancing with Sara. He nudged Greg to get his attention.

The pair faced him, both with smiles.

"I'm taking off!" he called over the music. They nodded and headed for the front door. Once outside, Nick noticed that neither of them was really walking in a straight line. Greg pulled out a cigarette and lit one.

"You guys need a lift home?" Sara shook her head. Greg laughed.

"I can take a cab," he answered.

"I think I better take you both home."

"Shotgun!" hollered Greg. Sara rolled her eyes.

"Good. Sara, you're coming too."

The trio stood in a calm comfortable silence for a few minutes before Greg blurted, "You can't go telling people at work. That could start rumors, and I don't wanna deal with Ecklie on this kinda crap. I mean, law enforcement and all…" Nick took a moment to figure out what he could possibly be rambling about through slurred words.

"That I'm gay." Nick nodded in understanding.

When Greg put his cigarette out, the three of them hopped in Nick's Tahoe.

"Sara, you first."

Sara led him to her house and Greg was silent. When he stopped in front of Sara's apartment building, he suddenly realized why it had been so quiet. Greg was asleep. Nick smiled a little.

"Sara, do you know where he lives?"

"He can stay on my couch. Let's get him inside. He's lucky I live on the first floor." Nick smiled. He unlatched the passenger door, and Greg would have fallen out had it not been for the seatbelt. Nick unbuckled him and smacked his cheek a few times.

"Greg? Greggo? C'mon, buddy, you gotta wake up for me." Greg moaned but stumbled out of the car.

They each took an arm and led him to the front door. After a moment of stumbling with her keys, the door swung open. Nick looked around casually. It was simple, and everything was pretty much as he expected it.

After Nick waved Greg over to the couch, Sara was at his side with aspirin and water. He somehow managed to take them, and then he fell off the couch. Nick turned to Sara with worry etched over his features.

"He'll be fine." Nick's worry didn't clear however, and he replied with a grunt. "We do this a couple times a month. Nick, I promise, he'll be fine." Nick nodded.

"See you at work." Sara groaned.

"Don't' remind me." Nick laughed. After a moment or so of looking over Greg, Sara led him to the door and said a quick thank you and goodnight.

Greg managed to lift his arm up; Nick assumed it was his goodbye and left.

Once he got home his mind drifted back to _the girl_. He had to see her again soon or he was going to burst. Eventually, he drifted into a fitful sleep.

A/N: Please review! Also. My beta is leaving town for a while at the end of May. Updates may be delayed, but I'll try my best to get as much as possible finished before she leaves. If there is a particularly long delay, I will do my darndest to make it worth the wait. Also!

Thank yous to: Janet1982 (for being my first fan), Seshat3 (for leaving me a nice review), Impure Desire (for being cool enough to review), and my super duper coolest ever beta. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Nick woke with a start. After a moment of composure he looked for the source of awakening but couldn't find it. He sat up and a glance of the clock told him he had another three and a half hours before he had to leave for work.

After his daily routine of scrambled eggs and toast, he decided that a much needed cleaning would be done to his apartment. He started with the kitchen, then the bedroom and the living room. Halfway through his living room, his phone rang.

And again.

And again. He walked to the caller ID and sighed. Reluctantly, he picked up the phone.

"Hey, mom."

"Oh, Nick! It's been two weeks! We've been so worried about you." Nick sighed.

"I'm fine, Mom. I swear. How's the family?"

"Oh! Your sister's expecting! Annie!"

"Again?" he groaned.

"Yes, again! They're hoping for a girl this time 'round." He could hear Jillian's smile. "This'll be our 12th grandbaby Nick. I think it's time you thought about settling down with a girl." Nick sighed. He hated this conversation.

"Mom, I'm gonna be late for work soon. I have to let you go."

"Nicholas, it's barely been five minutes!"

"I know mom, but suspects are loose. I have to find them while they're still in-state." His mother sighed.

"I love you, Nicholas."

"You too mom." He clicked his phone shut and grabbed his keys. He decided to go in early.

The lab was unusually quiet when Nick walked in. Only the distant humming of various machines could be heard. He headed for the coffee. _Hopefully Greg made a pot_.

Greg had not yet made a pot but Warrick was in the break room waiting for him.

"Hey, you run that shoe print yet?" he asked.

"Nah, just got here," came Nick's quiet reply. "But I'm gonna do it soon."

"Hey, you guys get anywhere with that robbery?" Nick sipped the motor oil and gave a cursory glance to his boss. Nick was about to answer when Grissom thrust a paper at them. "Looks like someone's going on a little spree. Another jewelry store." Nick hung his head.

"We're waiting on DNA from Greg and Bobby with a bullet." Grissom nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, check it out. Tell me if it looks like your case." Warrick took the slip and Sara came in.

"You're late," he announced. Sara threw a look at Nick and sighed.

"It won't happen again."

Nick raised an eyebrow, but kept all thoughts to himself.

"I think we can rule out insurance fraud," commented Warrick. He stood and left the break room with Nick on his heels.

"Maybe, but a professional wouldn't have left blood at the scene, 'Rick. I think you know that too." Warrick laughed a little.

"Screw up?" Nick laughed and held out his keys.

"Not unheard of, but not likely. I'm driving." Warrick snorted in response.

Once inside the safety of the car, Nick ambiguously relayed last night's-yesterday morning's-events to his best friend, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"So she wasn't there this morning?"

"Nah, man. It's like she's a ghost or something."

"Nicky," started Warrick. "Don't you think you're bordering a little heavy on obsession here? You don't even know her name. All you know about her is that she's pretty."

Nick wanted to argue, but what grounds would he have? "You're right, 'Rick."

"Maybe you just need to get laid, Nick." Nick laughed. He supposed that was probably true. "How long has it been for you?"

"Since Kristi." Warrick let out a low whistle. "I know, 'Rick. I'm not gonna say I haven't had offers, because I have. It feels like a curse or something sometimes."

"Well, if that's a curse, I'd be glad to take it anytime." Both boys laughed at the thought.

The scene looked almost exactly like the other one. Two busted counter-tops, glass everywhere. Nick looked around the store. The cameras had been shot out.

"Damn," muttered Nick. He began setting his yellow markers out and photographing broken bits of glass on the ground.

"Looks like our other robbery," Warrick commented.

"Yeah, except they shot the cameras out," said Nick. "It means they're getting smarter and possibly escalating."

"Means we gotta catch these guys."

No sooner than when they arrived at the lab did Nick's pager go off. He looked at the electronic device as it interrupted a mild but pleasant conversation. Warrick looked up.

"Hey, Greg got our DNA results back."

"Alright, I'm gonna go check with Bobby about our bullet, and drop the new ones off." Warrick waved his kit and headed toward ballistics.

Nick, on the other hand, headed for the DNA lab but when he was close, he stopped four feet short. The sound of a very beautiful instrumental piece hit his ears, and he watched, in a sort of trance, as Greg began conducting.

Just when Nick thought the song was ending, a rough patch in the song started. Drums backed up the piano and reed instruments. Was that a violin? A cello maybe? Nick tilted his head to the side. _Never figured Greg for a classical kind of man._ And just as quickly as the speed had picked up, it slowed down again, only a flute, or something, playing a duet with a piano.

Greg stood waving two papers around, and spun with the music a few times. It reminded Nick of the rain very briefly, and right when Greg pointed to the stereo, the song picked up again. He jumped around his lab, conducting, spinning, pushing buttons on his machines, and stopping to clap at the appropriate times.

With a spontaneous amount of energy, Greg waved off something in the distance as the music became increasingly rapid, and with a few loud drum beats came to a stop. Greg laid his head back. His face was flushed, lips slightly parted, sweat dripped across his forehead and his half lidded eyes glossed in a daze.

_Beautiful,_ thought Nick. And a moment later, _that he can get so absorbed by music._

"You okay?" came a deep voice. Nick shook himself out of the spell and turned to face Warrick.

"Yeah, man. Just didn't wanna interrupt his rain dance to some roman goddess." Nick glanced at Warrick. "What's up with that bullet?"

"Standard Glock 9mm pistol," countered Warrick. "No DNA anywhere on the gun."

Warrick and Nick strode into the DNA lab and Warrick turned down Greg's music. "What's with the rain dance?" Nick asked.

Greg looked up from his daze with a goofy grin. "It's called 'Moon Dance' by a band known as Nightwish." Nick nodded in false familiarity. "What else can I do for you?"

"Blood we found from the scene," quipped Warrick. Greg shuffled through his papers, and pulled up a sheet.

"XX," announced Greg. "I ran it through CODIS, got a hit. And, ah, I double checked it. One of your smashers is a chick." Greg grinned.

"Penelope Williams," Nick said aloud.

"I'll call Brass and have him pick her up," finished Warrick.

A heartbeat later Greg and Nick stood alone in the lab.

"That song," Nick began, "reminds me of sudden rainstorms out here in Vegas. They appear suddenly, sometimes harsh and loud, but they mellow out and fade almost as quickly as they came." Greg gave an impish grin.

"It's infectious, isn't it?" Nick nodded. "Hey, what happened to your mystery girl?" Nick heaved a long sigh.

"She wasn't there last night. I was thinking I'd try again tonight." Greg vigorously shook his head. "What? Why not?"

"Well, this morning will be 18 and up. Anyone who goes there at all knows not to go toni-this morning. I highly doubt she'll be there." Nick nodded pensively.

"So I should wait until Friday?"

"I would. Besides, you look like you need all the sleep you can get." Nick laughed.

"I do, believe me. Anyway, I'll try to go on Friday." Greg wiggled his eyebrows, but offered no comment to help Nick any farther. "Anyway, I got a girl to go interrogate. Catch you later, G."

Nick breezed out of the lab, mentally preparing himself for an interrogation.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters or anything associated with the show. Bummer.

**Chapter Five**

"Miss Williams," began Brass, "Do you want to explain why your blood was on broken glass at a jewelry store robbery?" She shifted nervously and brushed her short black hair out of her face.

She pressed her lips together and her eyes landed on Nick. He watched her pensively for any hint of guilt or innocence.

"Look, your blood was already found there," inserted Warrick. "So why don't you just tell us what happened?" She gave a shrug and looked at the table.

"Fine," answered Brass. "You don't even have to say anything." He slid a notepad and pen to her. "Write down everything." She continued to sit there. "Alright then, but you've got two DUIs and a molestation charge on your record. That's not going to look too good."

"Those charges were dropped!" she shrieked.

"That may be so, but your DNA was already in the system, so I'll ask you again. How did your blood wind up at the jewelry store?"

"I want a lawyer," she sneered.

"Well, that's your right," stated Brass. "But if you give us your partner's name, we might be willing to cut a deal."

Her eyes shifted between Brass and Warrick. "He always did like action movies," she whispered before the boys could slide out. "We didn't hurt anyone! He said we wouldn't get in trouble."

Warrick and Nick exchanged looks.

"Is that a confession?"

"Yes, I guess. Look, he's been really sick. Really, really sick. He's almost always in the wheelchair now." Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "He's about to start chemo again, he has cancer. We've been friends since we were kids. He helped me when my friends thought I was useless." She put her face in her hands.

"It's all right, Miss Williams," soothed Nick. "Continue with your story."

"He just wanted one last go 'round. You know? So he saw this movie with people kicking in doors and shooting out cameras and stuff, and he said it would be cool to try it. We weren't hurting anyone! Just trying to make his last days worthwhile…" She trailed off, and wiped her eyes again.

"What's his name, Ms. Williams?" pressed Brass.

"Joel. Joel Andrews. He has all the jewelry." She paused. "I'm not going to be in too much trouble, am I?"

"Armed Robbery is a class B felony in the state of Nevada," countered Brass. "But I'll make sure the DA knows you were co-operative."

Quiet sobs shook her slender frame. Nick felt sorry for her, but it was in the DA's hands now. Warrick and Nick slipped out of interrogation.

"College students," muttered Warrick. "I bet she thought she really wasn't doing anything wrong."

"A crime is a crime," defended Nick. "Armed robbery is still a crime, as it should be."

Warrick sighed. "All so a couple of kids could be in their own action flick." Nick shook his head. "Now what?"

"Now we go find him," inserted Brass. "I arrest him; you guys find the missing jewelry and give it back to the owners."

"Las Vegas police!" hollered Brass. "Open up Mr. Andrews!"

Brass tried the door handle and offered a resigned sigh. "Always with the kicking down doors." He lifted a boot and slammed it against the wood. With his weapon drawn and pointed in front of him, he rushed the living room. He glanced to both sides, and motioned for his fellow officers to follow him in. Working their way down the hallway they cleared room by room until Officer Gallagher spoke up.

"Good thing we brought CSI's," she announced. "Looks like we better get a coroner too." Once the house was cleared, Brass allowed the CSI's to enter.

Warrick took the living room and left the bedroom for Nick. Blood had soaked through the sheets and into the mattress. Mr. Andrews' eyes were open and Nick thought he saw despair in them. He picked up a blade about an inch wide and four inches in length. He snapped his gloves on and began taking pictures. One long slit from wrist to elbow down his right arm, and a smaller cut about three inches down his left forearm.

"Looks like suicide," he commented. Warrick walked in with some bagged jewelry.

"We definitely got the right house." Nick glanced over his shoulder. "I got all our missing jewels right here."

Nick sighed. "I got a letter on the bedside table," he answered. He picked up a passport from the night stand. "This is definitely our Mister Andrews." He continued taking pictures while Warrick busied himself with lifting fingerprints.

By the time David arrived, the boys were on their way back to the lab to drop off evidence.

"How does a guy just pick up a switchblade and slit his wrists?" Nick asked once they were in his Tahoe.

"If what our girl told us is true, he had cancer. Maybe he wanted to decide his own fate."

"Still," persisted Nick. "It's not like he didn't have any choice."

"He felt like he didn't. Look Nick, why don't we go to that little place of yours after shift? It'll cheer you up and maybe you'll see your girl again." Nick sighed.

"No use," he whined. "Tonight is 18 and up."

"Friday then."

A small smile crept across Nick's face. "Sure, 'Rick." _Maybe seeing her again will wipe the memories of this case_.

Once they were back at the lab, Nick dropped off his evidence and pulled out some procrastinated paperwork.

Friday arrived faster than Nick anticipated and the shift was light. He solved a B&E for an upscale neighborhood-turned out it was the neighbor's son. He caught up on his paperwork and headed to the locker room with a grin on his face.

"What's got you so happy?" asked Greg.

"What has you so grumpy?" Nick pondered aloud.

"Now all we need are Doc, Dopey, Sleepy, Sneezy and Bashful," chirped Greg with a smile.

"What are you talkin' about, Greg?" A smile fell across his features.

"Are you telling me you don't know Snow White and the Seven Dwarves?" Nick frowned.

"The Disney movie?" Greg laughed aloud.

"Thanks, Nick. You always manage to cheer me up somehow." Nick opened his locker and pulled out his bag. Every Friday night he cleaned out his locker and took home any clothes that needed to be washed.

"Did you need cheerin' up?" inquired Nick.

Greg let out a long sigh. "Remember my friend I had a thing for?" Nick nodded in affirmation, amazed that Greg remembered the conversation. _He was pretty drunk,_ recalled Nick. "Yeah, well, he isn't my friend anymore."

"Maybe he needs time," answered Nick. Greg's eyes narrowed and for a fleeting moment, he looked like he was about to cry.

"Hey, Warrick and I are going out tonight," offered Nick. "Why don't you come with us? You could use a night out, and I'll even buy you a beer."

Greg smiled a fake smile. "Sara's already dragging me out," he sighed.

"Well, bring her too. I'll ask Catherine and Grissom, see if anyone else wants to join us. It'll disguise your moping and Warrick's brilliant idea of getting me laid." Greg laughed.

"It shouldn't be that hard to get you laid," he quipped.

Nick silently wondered if he meant that with the pun intended. He opted for a change of subject. "You go find Sara, I'll ask Cath and Gris if they're up for it." He didn't want to admit he hadn't had sex in months, let alone anything resemble a relationship. The last time he tried that it didn't work out so well.

The slam of Greg's locker knocked Nick back into reality. He offered a small smile to Greg before he breezed out of the locker room.

He flipped open his phone and dialed Warrick. Nick let him know the change of plans before closing his locker and fleeing in search of Grissom. _In his office,_ thought Nick. _No surprise there._ He knocked twice before sliding in.

Catherine and Grissom sat facing each other, engaged in casual conversation. Nick smiled. Catherine noticed him first.

"Hey Nicky," she said affectionately.

"Hey," he offered. He suddenly felt nervous and tried to relax his body. "You guys up for a beer after shift?"

Catherine's smile reached her eyes. "You and Warrick?" she asked.

"Greg and Sara are coming too."

"Sure," she answered. "I'll have to shower first. Where?" Nick relayed the nearest cross streets and told her that they charged. Not that Nick minded, because anything would be worth seeing _her_ again. Grissom politely declined.

Out at his car he observed an odd sight. Warrick had Greg pinned against the side of Nick's Tahoe and they appeared to be deep in argument. Nick approached cautiously.

"Everything okay?" The worry was evident in Nick's voice.

"Sanders was just telling me how much smarter than me he was," answered Warrick. Greg rolled his eyes. "But I told him intelligence is no match for physical strength." Warrick took a step back and Greg rubbed his arm. Of course it was something trivial like that.

"I'll drive if you want," offered Greg. "After all, Sara and I still owe you for that." Nick nodded in agreement.

"Okay," answered Warrick. "Just remember, he drives a little silver Jetta…"

Greg slapped Warrick's shoulder and his face scrunched in annoyance. "At least we know I'm not over compensating, Warrick." Greg looked squarely at Nick. "I don't have to hide behind a large truck to make myself feel like a man."

Nick heard giggling from behind him and turned to see Sara and Catherine approaching. Greg joined their chorus of laughter and Warrick and Nick joined in not long after.

Catherine broke the laughter first by saying, "we're not going to get much drinking done in the parking lot of the crime lab." Another chorus of laughter erupted, as she headed for her car. Warrick and Sara also seemed to vanish, and once again, Nick and Greg stood alone and enjoyed a comfortable silence.

A/N: This is the last thing that got done before my beta went to Hawaii. Without me. The bitch. I might hate her now. Anyway, thanks to Janet, Seshat3, Impure Desire.

Please Review!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Still don't own them. Just borrowing! I don't make money from this.

A/N: SO SO SO sorry. My beta's back in town. Expect updates regularly!

**Chapter Six**

When Greg started the car, Nick jumped at least six inches. Greg rushed to turn the radio down.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I like my music loud."

Nick knew this. It didn't make the sudden noise any less startling.

"You know I don't hold it against you, G." Greg pulled out of the parking lot. "The Nigel Crane thing, I mean." Greg glanced sideways at him.

"Thank you," he responded mechanically.

"If you hadn't distributed those fliers around the lab, no one would have recognized that I was his next…"

"Target?" finished Greg. Nick nodded.

Greg made no further attempt at talking until they were pulling into Pandora's parking lot. "It's looking pretty empty this morning," He stated. He wasn't speaking loudly but the noise still startled Nick.

"I don't see anyone else's car here."

"Catherine probably went home to change. Warrick too. Sara's probably still at the lab trying to talk Grissom into joining us." Nick chuckled in response. The two climbed out of Greg's Jetta and headed toward the bar.

"Hey Greg," called a familiar rough voice. Nick looked up. "Is he with you?" Greg shook his head.

"Not like you are hoping, Mario." _Greg knows the bouncer?_ "He's a colleague of mine."

"I'll try not to give him too much trouble then." _Mario_ waved them in free of charge.

The lighting was much different than any other time Nick had been in. It was well lit. The dance floor was almost completely abandoned and the table area was almost packed. Nick glanced between the two bars and saw a familiar face. He realized Greg was already headed over. He glanced around one last time before walking up to the bar.

The sound was different too, he realized as he approached his friends. He could hear what they were saying.

"He's really got it bad for this girl, huh?" he heard Greg ask.

"Greg, if you're holding out on him," warned Warrick.

Nick plopped onto the stool next to Greg. "I'm right here, you know?" The two boys started laughing. Nick wasn't entirely sure what was so funny.

"A whiskey sour like your lady friend, correct?" Nick looked up and smiled at Alyssa. She was wearing a red halter top and blue jeans. She barely looked like the same person at all.

"Yes, please."

Alyssa began making his drink. "I wasn't sure you'd come back," she commented. "You looked like a cop that first night you came in." Nick laughed. Warrick looked at Nick.

"You know this fine woman?" Nick smiled.

"Alyssa, my best friend and colleague, Warrick Brown." Alyssa set the drink in front of Nick. "Warrick, this is Alyssa. We met on Tuesday." Warrick offered a hand and Alyssa gently shook it.

Then she turned to Greg. "Your usual?" Greg looked pensive. "Of course it's your usual. You always think about it, and then say-"

"The usual. Shaken, not stirred," Greg tried out his best James bond voice. Nick laughed and pulled out his wallet.

"It's on the house honey," she answered for him. Warrick shook his head as Greg's drink was set in front of him as well.

"I almost didn't recognize you without the makeup," commented Nick.

"Oh? And which way do I look better?"

"With the makeup and that lacy black shirt you always wear," answered Greg. Nick couldn't help but laugh. Greg really did flirt with everyone.

"I bet you could make anything look good," added Warrick with a smirk. Nick looked sideways in time to see one very amused Catherine looking at Warrick.

"Hey Cath!" called Greg. Warrick turned around and his mouth opened but no sound came out. _Catherine does look stunning tonight,_ thought Nick. _But I don't think that's the only reason he's speechless._

Alyssa had a sideways smile on. "What can I get for you?"

"A man who actually tolerates my hours and the fact that I'm a single mom?" Boisterous laughter erupted from the other side of Nick. He turned to find Alyssa, Sara _and _Greg laughing.

"I wish I could find the first half of that," commented Sara.

"No kidding," muttered Greg.

"Sorry, fresh out," added Alyssa. "How about a cosmo?" Catherine looked hopeful.

"Well, if you can't have what you want, drink something fruity." Greg downed the rest of his drink and walked toward the dance floor dragging Sara with him.

"So tell me about this girl," Catherine started.

"I don't think I can take much more," groaned Warrick. "Wave me over in a few days when she's out of his head." With that, Warrick stood and headed toward a long legged blonde sitting at the other bar.

"She's perfect for me, Catherine."

A girly drink, umbrella and all appeared next to Catherine. She pulled out a credit card and slid it towards Alyssa. "Will you please start me a tab?" Alyssa nodded. Catherine turned her attention to Nick again. "What else?"

"Cath, she has these perfect long legs that go on forever, and she's so slender. She could be a supermodel if she wanted to. Problem is, she's mute. She doesn't talk at all, and I didn't catch her name or anything. I have only her looks to go on." Nick sighed and let his forehead rest against the bar. Catherine rubbed his shoulder with her free hand. "You know what caught my attention first? She had these magnificent brown eyes. They were sparkling, even though there was almost no light in here. And she had this million watt smile, like she could light up a room just by walking into it. She had dark hair pushed over in front of her eyes and her hips moved like magic, Catherine."

"You do know who you just described." Not a question, but a statement. Nick looked up. "You just described a female version of Greg." Nick's eyes widened at the thought.

"Wha- bu- wait- what..?" Nick stuttered.

"Greg Sanders," she clarified. It wasn't like Nick knew any other Gregs. "Large, brown sparkling eyes, tall and slender, million watt smile, quirky personality, hips that move like magic."

Nick almost choked. "Yes, but she is also a _she,_" emphasized Nick. "And she doesn't speak at all." Nick glanced toward Greg. "He almost never shuts up."

Catherine laughed. "Just saying, Nicky," she answered. "I know you don't go for men." _That isn't entirely true,_ thought Nick. _I've gone for a couple men before, but I'm not gay like Greg is_.

"She's here every Tuesday morning," chirped a voice. Nick turned and smiled at Alyssa. "Every Tuesday morning she comes in, hangs around until about seven or so."

Catherine grinned at Nick. "At least you know where you can find her again," she added.

Nick hung his head. _But Tuesday is when they have goth night,_ he internally groaned. _Maybe if I could get her to go on a date with me, this wouldn't be the only place I could see her. Yes! That's it!_ With a new plan in mind, Nick downed his whiskey sour and led Catherine to the dance floor.

xxx

Don't forget to Review! Thanks to all of my super cool fans!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and I make no money off of this! Rights go to cbs and whoever else.**

**A/N: **Apologies for taking forever. Between my beta and me, updating has been taking forever. Don't forget to review! On with the chapter!

**Chapter Seven**

Teeth and tongue collided in a most pleasant way. Nick could feel his back against the wall as he felt her hands moving beneath his shirt. He slid a hand underneath the bottom of her shirt. Her skin was smooth and soft. He could feel the faint outline of her muscles. He inched his fingertips higher and his lips traveled across her beautiful neck. _So soft._

A sudden thud moved his attention away from her neck. Nick now realized that his hands had joined the rest of his body against the wall. He let a groan of frustration pass his lips and he felt his blood rush to his groin. Her bright brown eyes narrowed in astute observation. He struggled against her long, slender fingers only to be held firmly in place. Nick smiled his best 'I want to make love to you' smile. She returned it with a nervous smile and a silent swallow.

Nick's eyes followed her cheekbones and square chin before dropping to her neck. As she swallowed Nick noticed her bobbing Adam's apple. He glanced at her intense brown eyes and he could feel confusion playing upon his face.

Nick started at her shoes, which were now replaced with a pair of All Star Converse. A pair of slightly battered jeans replaced her miniskirt, hung low on her hips. Her red t-shirt didn't quite reach her jeans. Nick ran his fingers over the soft pale skin, earning a gasp from his partner. Nick looked squarely into her eyes.

"Greg?" he whispered. She gave him a wide smile. "Tell me if you're Greg!" Nick flipped their positions. "Tell me!" he ordered. He felt her long fingers hook his belt loops and jerk him forward. Nick's groin rubbed against his. Nick saw another smile from his unidentified partner as she dissolved into a wall.

Nick shot upright and sucked in a desperate breath before looking around the room. The first thing he noticed was that he was not on his bed, but on a couch. Not his couch, but someone else's. Someone who owned a lot of posters and a lot of music. Nick stood and stretched his back.

Footsteps made their way down the hallway. _Think, Nick, think! _He begged whatever other power that might exist to remember the night before. Pandora's, Alyssa, Warrick pushing him encouragingly, dancing with Catherine…_ What am I missing?_ Nick barely had another second to panic before a familiar figure made its way into the living room.

"You okay?" asked Greg. _Greg must have taken me home, _he thought. _Oh crap! What am I supposed to say to him?_

"Uhh…" That didn't make much sense.

Greg quirked an eyebrow and continued, "I heard some yelling."

"Yeah, yeah. Mind telling me how I got here?" Greg laughed and tightened his towel. Nick closed his eyes to avoid focusing on his pale skin.

"You were rambling and then you fell off the barstool. Face forward into Sara's lap." Greg paused to laugh again. "Warrick had already taken off to get laid and Catherine cut out early too, for Lindsay. Sara told me to take you home."

"But I do not appear to be at home, Greg." Nick had to focus to keep his voice even.

"You told me you lived on the moon," answered Greg with a straight face. Nick put a hand to his head and looked up at Greg.

"I didn't."

Greg laughed again and nodded. "You so did! You also told Sara she should wear more feminine attire, and you told me my gay was showing." Nick heaved out a long breath. _She's going to make me pay for that_.

"I was about to make coffee and wake you up. I have some stuff that might fit you. Or did you want to stop by your house on our way to work? Your car is still at the crime lab."

"I don't suppose my mystery girl showed up?" Nick's eyes glimmered with hope. Greg shook his head with a sad smile.

"Sorry, Nick." Nick sighed again. _Maybe Greg _does_ dress up like mystery girls and seduce his coworkers in his free time._ Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll take the clothes, then."

Greg started coffee and pulled some stuff out of his fridge. "The top drawer of the dresser in my bedroom has some stuff that should fit you. Feel free to use the bathroom. In the meantime, I'll make breakfast."

"Will you be sharing your coffee?"

Greg grinned. "Only the best for you, Nicky."

Nick smiled at the affectionate nickname. As he walked down Greg's hallway, Nick seized the opportunity to learn more about his coworker.

The first thing Nick really noticed was how clean the apartment was. Clutter took over various tables and shelves, but it was clean; The floor had to have been vacuumed that same week; the clothes were hung in Greg's closet, all facing the same direction. Greg's bed was already made. Posters lined the walls and stuck on some posters were pictures of people Nick had never seen.

Nick pulled open the drawer. Slacks, button ups, polo shirts and a couple of ties greeted Nick. Nick hummed aloud and pulled out a black polo shirt and a pair of slacks.

When Nick walked out of the shower Greg had already made breakfast. He sat across from Greg.

"Mind if I join you?"

Greg grinned. "I believe that's right up there with 'what's your sign.'"

"Are you flirting with me?"

Greg pulled the coffee to his lips. "Would you like it if I was?"

Nick shook his head earning a laugh from Greg. "These don't really seem like you're style, Greg."

Greg became cold in an instant and set down his coffee. "They belong to my ex."

"What happened?" Nick wondered aloud.

Greg coughed into his hand. "You should eat up, before it gets cold."

After ten minutes Nick couldn't take the silence any longer. "You know what's funny?" Greg looked up. "I had a dream that you were my secret girl."

Greg choked on his coffee. A few moments later and tears were streaming down his face. "Greg! You okay, buddy?" Greg nodded and inhaled a few deep breaths. And then he was laughing; the 'lay your head back, tears falling down, feet stomping' kind of laugh that lifts your entire day. Seeing Greg look so happy, Nick couldn't help but laugh too.

When they both calmed, he looked directly at Nick. Nick tilted his head in question.

"I'm gay," said Greg, as if that explained everything.

"And…?"

"So, just because I'm gay doesn't mean I dress up like a woman and seduce cowboy cops, even if he is pretty cute."

"You're flirting with me again." Greg howled in laughter again. Nick shook his head and shoved a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

"I told you I flirt with everyone." Nick cracked a smile and gathered the dishes. "Nick, you don't have to do those."

"I know," he said as he filled the sink. "But you drove me home, clothed me, fed me, it's the least I can do."

A sudden flash and a click caught Nick's attention. He turned to face Greg who was gently shaking a Polaroid picture. Freshly taken. "What was that for?"

"A man doing the dishes," announced Greg. "It's a historic occasion, and Sara will never believe me." Nick chuckled and continued to work his way through the dishes. Greg folded the blankets on the couch and ten minutes later, both boys were on their way to work.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** I am SO sorry for the long wait. Lots of busy, a new job, new house, and some family emergencies… Wow, it's been a heck of a summer. Anyway, here it is: Chapter 8.

**Disclaimer:** _I own nothing recognizable. Sigh._

**Chapter Eight**

The scene put Nick's stomach in his throat. The coppery stench hit him the moment he stepped inside the house. The air weighed down on his shoulders. He surveyed the living room. There didn't appear to be anything out of place. He could feel that whatever happened in this house was very bad.

"Alright, Nick." Nick jumped at the sound of his supervisor's voice and raised his chin to meet Grissom's eyes. "We got a family of three and five bodies. Two in the dining room, two in the upstairs office, and one in the bedroom."

"Where do you want me?" Nick asked.

"Sara and I will take the three bodies upstairs. Warrick has the perimeter. You poke around downstairs. If we finish, we'll be down to help you." Nick nodded and clicked on his florescent light. "David will be here soon, so start with the bodies and work your way outward." Nick cleared his throat.

"Sure thing, Gris." Nick picked up his kit and headed toward the dining room. The floor was linoleum and blood covered the floor. Spatter on three of the four walls, he could even see blood on the large wooden table and the dishes on the table.

Two women, roughly in their thirties, lay stabbed to death one right against the wall, the other between the table and the large bay window.

"Just after dinner," he muttered. He pulled out his camera and began collecting evidence: Blood swabs of all sorts, hairs and fibers. What he didn't find was finger prints. He hoped that maybe someone else had found something.

After an hour or so, he heard footsteps approaching. Nick looked up to see Warrick leaning against the doorway.

"Damn," muttered Warrick. Nick nodded. "Has Super Dave arrived yet?"

"Present," he called. Nick tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.

"Where do you need help?" asked Warrick.

"I haven't even gotten to the kitchen yet. You find out how they got in?"

Warrick shook his head. "No, but I know how they left. They hopped a fence into the alley. The alley is concrete, and I lost the mud tracks, so I think there was a car waiting for them. Are you having any luck?"

"No," answered Nick. "I mean, I've got a lot of blood, and some hairs. There are some fibers on the young lady by the window, but they could be incidental."

Warrick snorted. "Could be cat hair or her favorite blanket," he replied. "Whoever did this had this well planned." Nick nodded and Warrick walked to the kitchen.

After Nick finished with the dining room, he headed to the living room. He observed shelves without dust, mirrors without streaks and walls with pictures hung perfectly. On one shelf he noticed a picture. A man and a woman, one of the women from the dining room, stood with their arms around each other. A girl about 10 years old stood in front of them with a toothy smile. _They look happy, _he mused.

Another picture caught his eye. The same woman with another man, their arms linked. They probably didn't even know the picture was being taken. He glanced around the living room again, and made his way to the office. He stopped short when he noticed something on the floor. He bent down and picked it up. A bead. It was square and glass with purple swirled in it.

"I think I got signs of a struggle," he called. He knelt down and followed the beads through the small hallway, to another room. He tried the door and it opened. _Office,_ he observed. The room had a desk cluttered with papers, a small paper shredder, even a fancy office chair. Warrick came over.

"What did you find, Nicky?"

"Beads. From a necklace or a bracelet. It looks like it was broken or snapped."

Warrick held up a bag containing a few beads with a piece of string. Nick looked over at him. "Beads like these?" he asked. "I found them just right there on the floor." Nick started flipping through papers.

"So our attacker got to one of the girls first," answered Nick. "I'm on my way to the kitchen to help you. It looks like the women were cleaning up after dinner."

"Right, the little one's in her room, doing whatever, and the men retreated upstairs to do whatever."

"Exactly. So, I come down to help you…"

"And the attacker gets you," replied Sara from the stairs, just behind Nick. Nick nods.

"We need to regroup," concludes Warrick. "We've been here for 5 hours." Nick lays his head back.

"Feels like more," replied Nick.

Grissom came down the stairs, kit in hand. "We'll regroup at the lab," he answered. The three subordinates faced him. "The media got wind of this, and they're all outside. Answer no questions, and try to avoid them. If you feel you must say something, a 'no comment' is all that's necessary. Be ready to pull a double." Grissom headed out of the house. Sara made a small wave and followed him.

xxx

Sitting in the break room nursing a cup of Blue Hawaiian, Grissom began the conversation. "Warrick, do you know how they got in?"

"I know how they left," he replied coolly. "I'm guessing that they came in through the front door. There was no sign of forced entry, but they left through the kitchen and out the back door. They hopped a fence and ran down the alley. They must have had a car, because I lost the mud tracks. I found a few blood drops on the way." Grissom nodded thoughtfully.

"Nick?"

"I'm just wondering why she ran through the kitchen. I found some beads by the downstairs office, suggesting that a struggle began there. And Warrick found some more beads in the kitchen, so she was clearly heading for the door." Nick looked pensive. "But she was killed in the dining room…"

"So why didn't she just leave?" finished Sara. "Maybe she wanted to check on her sister in law."

"Sister in law?" questioned Nick.

"One family," answered Grissom. "Janet and Dennis Anderson, their little girl Tammy Anderson, and Raymond and Alyssa Lewis. Raymond was Janet's older brother."

"Alright, so… how does the other girl not move the whole time?" asked Sara. The group exchanged looks.

"More than one attacker," answered Grissom. "But that doesn't explain why Tammy didn't move, or why the men didn't do anything."

"Maybe they couldn't hear them," replied Warrick.

"Alright, so they get the girls, and then, what? They go upstairs to…what?"asked Sara.

An idea dawned on Nick. "I think we're looking at this all wrong," he countered. "I think maybe the attackers were part of the dinner party. There were eight seats at the dining room table, and seven plates. Two on the table, a broken one on the floor, and five in the kitchen." Nick pulled out his photographs to emphasize his point.

"Excellent observation." Grissom put a finger on his chin. "Did we collect the dirty dishes?" Nick shook his head. "Alright, what else have we got?"

Warrick lay his pictures down. "No sign of forced entry, so I'm going to agree with Nick's theory. For now," he added as he gave Nick a sidelong glance. "I got three different shoe prints in the mud; two big, one small."

"They could be from people in the house," answered Grissom. "We need to compare all the shoes in that house to rule them out. What else do you have?"

"I pulled their trash, I need to go through it. I've been working on the shoe prints."

"Sara, do you have anything else to add?" Nick didn't miss the way her face lit up at the acknowledgement.

"Tammy was lying in bed when the attacker slit her throat," she answered as her photos joined Nick and Warrick's. _At least it was quick,_ thought Nick. _Not like anyone else in the house._ "I also found a partial hand print on the stairwell in blood." Grissom nodded.

"Alright, Sara, you work on the palm, we'll see if it belongs to anyone in the house. Nick, you and Warrick return to the scene, grab those dishes and the shoes. Look for anything else that might seem relevant. I have a date with some bodies." Grissom poured the rest of his coffee down the sink and headed out.

Warrick clasped a hand on Nick's shoulder. "Back to the scene," he declared.

Nick forced a smile. _This is _not _how my night is supposed to be going._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Yay! Another 1,400 words for all you fans! Thank you very much for reading, by the way. I'm very excited about this chapter.

_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing recognizable. Still. Every chapter.

**Chapter Nine**

Nick surveyed the outside of the house. _I really don't want to be here again_, he thought. Warrick cut the tape, and opened the door. Nick snapped his gloves over his hands and stepped inside.

"I'll get the shoes," Warrick said as he headed for the stairs. "You get the dishes."

Nick nodded. He went straight to the dining room and picked up the plates. As an afterthought he bagged the silverware and wine glasses, too. He surveyed the kitchen once again. The dishwasher hung open containing only a few dishes; they looked clean. The pots and pans for the dinner were still on the stove, but nothing was in them. Nick pulled the refrigerator open.

Everything was labeled with what the container held with the date neatly printed underneath. Nick pulled the contents labeled for Friday and dusted for prints. _I'm in luck,_ he thought as he lifted two partials. He walked through the living room again and started for the stairs. About halfway up was a palm print on the left hand side. _A right palm print on the left hand side?_ he wondered. He rotated his right hand to match the print and left it hovering above the print.

"Hey Warrick!" he called. "Come check this out."

Warrick appeared at the top of the stairs. "What you got, Nicky?"

"Check out this hand print. If the attacker made this on the way up, he would have been under some sort of influence." Warrick walked down the stairs and held his right hand above the print.

"So, what you're saying," clarified Warrick, "is that the attacker, or at least one of them, started upstairs." Nick nodded. "Well, I got all the shoes, Tammy's too. I'll compare these to the mud tracks I found. You can swab those plates and get them to Greg. Then you can go through the garbage I found out back."

"Fat chance," retorted Nick.

"I'll flip you for it." Warrick pulled out a quarter. "Heads or tails, Nicky?" Warrick tossed it in the air.

"Heads!" Warrick caught it and slapped it on the back of his head. Nick leaned over. _Of course it landed on tails_, thought Nick.

"Looks like you're on trash duty," Warrick bragged.

Nick surveyed the house once again. Light poured in from the east facing windows. He was already starting on a double shift. The tension in the house was still thick and his nostrils still burned with the coppery smell. Nick suppressed a shudder. "Let's get back to the lab," he finally said.

The car ride was silent and strained.

xxx

After swabbing each dish, Nick strolled into the DNA lab. Greg was leaning over the computer, staring intently at his screen. "Craig's list, Greg?" Greg laughed and Nick read over his shoulder. Their close proximity made Nick's heart beat a little faster.

"Well, there's this thing called missed connections," answered Greg. "It's if you see someone somewhere and wanted to get to know them, you can write a missed connection." Nick raised an eyebrow. "Say you're some young, hot blooded male looking for some lovin'." Nick laughed. "And the girl in line in front of you at Starbucks is really hot, but just as you're about to speak to her, she leaves."

"Sucks for me, I guess," he replied.

"But you could write a missed connection in hopes that she sees it, contacts you, and you guys go out, get engaged, married, make hundreds of mini Nicks."

Nick exploded with laughter. "One or two might be nice, but hundreds Greg?"

Greg gave his million watt smile. "So you came in here to spy on me?"

"No," replied Nick. "I actually have a ton of swabs that need to be processed and identified." He held up several small baggies, each containing a single swab.

"Do you have something for me to compare it to?" Nick held up another group of bags. "More swabs. I'll have that for you as soon as possible."

Grissom ambled in, holding a small bag of his own. "Greg, I need you to see if there's any DNA on these fingernail scrapings. Find out if any of them match anything relating to this case."

"Yes sir, right away sir."

Grissom turned to Nick. "Did you get any prints off anything else at the crime scene?" Nick nodded and opened his mouth to speak. Grissom cut him off with, "Give them to Sara. She and Jaqui have that palm print. I hear that you have a date with some trash?" Grissom turned and walked out the doors. Nick resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _Stupid coin flip_, he thought. _Sara gets finger prints, Warrick gets shoe prints, Grissom gets to boss everyone around, and _I _have a date with trash._

"Rough case, huh?" Nick shook himself from his thoughts.

"Yeah," he sighed. "A family and we think they knew the attackers; at least well enough to have dinner with them." Nick ran a hand through his hair.

"I'll make you a deal." Greg licked his lips and smiled. "If you solve this by the end of shift on Tuesday morning, I'll take you to Pandora's to celebrate."

"Greg, I don't know if that's a good idea."

"I'll pay," volunteered Greg. "And drive." Nick weighed his options.

"Okay," he said slowly. "But I'll be looking for…her."

Greg grinned. "And if you see her, I can write a missed connection for you," answered Greg. Nick did roll his eyes that time, even though a small smile crept up the corners of his mouth.

"It's settled then," he said.

"A date?" offered Greg as he quirked an eyebrow.

"Are you flirting with me?" Greg laughed and waved his hand. Nick smiled for the first time that night as he meandered to Evidence Room 3.

Nick threw himself into work for the next four hours until Grissom stepped in. "It's almost noon." He jumped at the sound of his supervisor's voice. A wave of exhaustion crashed into him. "Get some sleep, Nick. The case will be waiting for us tomorrow."

Nick glanced at the clock and nodded. "Okay, Gris," he finally said. "I haven't found anything yet."

Grissom nodded solemnly. "We'll find more tomorrow."

Nick forced a smile and thought, _I hope so_.

When he finally made it home, sleep didn't come easily. Nightmares and horrific images plagued his thoughts. In the end, Nick turned on ESPN and spent the afternoon considering his case. When five o'clock rolled around he decided to call his sister, Annie.

She answered on the third ring. "Hello?" inquired Annie.

"Hey, Annie."

"Oh, Nicky!" she cried. "It's been so long since we talked. How are things going in Las Vegas?"

"Crime happens," answered Nick. _It's why I still have a job._

"Yes." She paused for a moment. "I meant, how is your personal life?"

"Not so good right now, but I did meet this girl. Don't get excited," he added hastily. "I don't even know her name and she isn't exactly the easiest person to find."

"She's no good for you."

"Annie, you don't even know her," he scoffed. _I don't even know her_.

"I'll let this one slide. Tell me about work."

"We just got this back breaking case. I actually called to see how everything was going with the baby. How's Josh takin' everything?"

"Oh, we already have two." Nick could hear her smile through the phone. "It's a little sooner than we planned, but we're going to be just fine. I think he's secretly excited too."

"I'm really happy for you," he said softly.

"Nick," she turned serious. "You don't deserve anyone that you have to _track down_. Besides, I thought you were leaning the other way." Nick choked on his coffee.

"Annie!" he squeaked.

"Well," she stated, matter-of-factly, "either way you deserve someone who will treat you well. Tell me about this girl."

"She's beautiful, smart, mysterious." _Elusive, sexy, mistrusting,_ he added as an afterthought. "I've only met her once, but the next time I find her, I'm going to ask her out." Annie chuckled.

"Men do love a good chase," she murmured.

Nick smiled. _Yes we do,_ he thought. "Annie, I have to get to work, but keep me posted about the baby."

"Sure thing." He could hear her smile again. "Be safe, Nick."

"You too." He set the phone in its cradle and grabbed the keys. On the way to work he thought about Greg's offer to visit Pandora's with a smile. _Now if I can just crack this case today or tomorrow_, he thought.

**Author's Note (take two): **Funny story- there's a difference between silver_ware_ and silver_wear_. The first one is correct. My beta and I had a fun time with that. Also, does anyone read these? Anyway, thank you to my fans, and again, I apologize for the long wait on that last chapter.

Don't forget to Review! I treasure my reviews. _"My precious…"_ Haha.


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